


Crossroads

by p0ck3tf0x



Series: Crossroads [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Deal with a Devil, M/M, Romance, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5830279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p0ck3tf0x/pseuds/p0ck3tf0x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew would give anything to save his brother; Gilbert will do anything for a price. They were living the greatest fairytale of the twenty first century but, sadly, the last chapter had already been written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deal with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2013.
> 
> The pieces below were drawn by Maplevogel (http://maplevogel.tumblr.com) and included with her permission.

Matthew fell to his knees and dug through the dirt with his bare hands. His cheeks were streaked with dried tears and his eyes were bloodshot and red. He hiccupped and buried his fingers into his makeshift hole, testing the depth.

Deep enough.

He tossed in a baseball card, a childhood stuffed animal, and a photograph. He held up his palm and dragged a knife across it, letting the blood drip into the hole. He felt like he should say something but he did not know what to say. What _could_ he say?

Matthew covered the hole and leaned back, checking his watch. It was 2357h. It was almost midnight. He had finished just in time.

He stood up and licked his hand absentmindedly, looking down one long dirt road and then the other. It had taken him two hours to drive to this particular crossroads, but it had seemed like his best chance based on all of an hour worth of research. He did not have a licence but that had not slowed him down much.

It was quiet here. Matthew could hear a coyote in the distance and the wind was rustling through the tall grass. It was a new moon tonight, which meant he was relying on starlight to see, but his eyes adjusted.

He looked at his watch again. It was 2359h. Any second now…

He bit his lip and shifted from one foot to the other. He knew that this was the last refuge of a desperate man but he did not know what else to do.

He looked down.

Midnight.

Matthew scanned the prairies, looking for the demon he should have summoned. The coyote sounded closer than before but, other than that, nothing had changed. He waited as the seconds turned into minutes, nervous and on edge.

He ran through the steps in his mind. A photograph, a memento from the past; a dream for the future… Blood to seal the deal… Crossroads at midnight…

No, no, that was everything.

It was 0003h. He twisted his fingers into his sweater.

It was 0004h. He hiccupped again and tried to quell his disappointment.

It was 0005h. He burst into tears.

Hopeless. It was all _hopeless_. There was nothing he could do. He was too late… He had _failed_ him. And now his brother was going to die.

“Gee, you’re _five_ minutes late and the whole world just _falls to_ _pieces_. Chill out.”

Matthew jumped in surprise and toppled backwards. He stared up at the man who had definitely not been there a second ago.

The man, no, wait, _demon_ was pale and stood out in the darkness. He seemed larger than life and his eyes burnt red in the starlight.

Looking at him now, he was obviously not human and Matthew could not believe he had mistaken him for a man, however briefly. Yes, he walked like a human and talked like a human but he was _not_ human. No, certainly not that. Never that.

There was something odd about him… Strange. Off.

He was a demon.

“What?!” Matthew yelped, at a loss for words.

The demon bent down to his level and cocked his head to the side, studying him.

“You did call me, didn’t you? Otherwise, man, am I in the wrong place…”

He was wearing torn jeans and a dark cotton shirt with a grinning skull splashed across it. His shoes were untied and the laces trailed in the dirt. His hair, which was the exact same shade as his complexion, stuck up in all directions. He had smudged the slightest bit of kohl into his eyelashes.

He was a little pale, a little gaunt, but attractive in spite of that.

“Oh. Uhm. Yes. Are you a demon? _The_ demon?” Matthew blinked and the demon mirrored his actions like a charmed snake.

“If I’m lying, I’m dying.”

Matthew blinked again.

“Is that a 'yes’?”

The demon beamed at him and ruffled his curls before Matthew could push backwards.

“Yes.”

Matthew bit his lip.

“… I need help.”

The demon gestured to the hole he had just covered up.

“I gathered that much. It’s sort of my gig. What d'ya need? Or rather…” He leaned in. “What do you _want_? Talent, fame, or fortune? Money? True love?”

Matthew met his eyes and they were deeper and more expressive than he had expected.

“I want my brother back.”

“Your… Brother?” The demon seemed genuinely surprised.

“Alfred,” he clarified. “He’s sick. Cancer. The doctors don’t think he has much time left. I want to change that.”

The demon sucked in a hissing breath.

“Life, huh? That’s a tall order.”

“Can you do it?” Matthew tried not to let desperation colour his words but his voice quavered with it. The demon stared at him.

“I can,” he whispered. “But it’ll cost you.”

“Anything,” Matthew promised, and he meant it.

“Your life for his; your soul.”

“Done,” Matthew said without thinking about it. He did not need to. He had been thinking about it all day, ever since the doctor had pulled him aside with the bad news. “Where do I sign?”

The demon quirked an eyebrow and paused before bursting into laughter.

“Just like that, huh…? Tell you what, kid; I like you. You’re different. No one bargains for love anymore; everyone is out for themselves. Mortals are cruel and selfish and _disgusting_.” The demon took his hand and traced the bleeding lesion on his palm. It sealed itself. “… Except for you… So, I’ll cut you a deal.”

“… What sort of deal?” Matthew asked. He scrutinized his hand in awe.

“Ten years. I’ll give you ten years to spend with your brother and when it’s time to go, you’ll go without a fight.”

Matthew considered this.

“… And he’ll stay?”

“He’ll stay. He’ll live until he’s eighty seven and die, peacefully, in his sleep. He’ll fall in love, and raise two sons, and live a long and fulfilling life.”

“… Do you promise?” Matthew hated how small and unsure he sounded. It was half begging and half pleading but he was desperate.

“I promise.” The demon crossed his heart and stood up. He held out his hand to Matthew and helped him up too.

“Okay. So where do I sign?” He asked again. The demon shook his head.

“Aw, man, that’s _so_ old fashioned. No one writes up contracts anymore. Besides, I can never keep track of the paperwork,” he shrugged.

“So how do we…?”

The demon dove forward and kissed him, full on the lips, and there was a flash of brilliant purple light.

It lasted longer than strictly necessary, Matthew thought.

When he pulled back, Matthew touched his lips in surprise. The demon cackled at his expense and flicked Matthew on the nose.

“There, it’s done. Sealed with a kiss… A deal’s a deal,” he grinned. “I’m Gilbert, by the way.”

“… Matthew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple of belief systems that entertain the idea of a demon or spirit appearing at a crossroads, whether that be a literal or spiritual crossroads, to make a deal. In this piece, Gilbert most closely reflects Voodoo, with a little bit of British lore thrown in for good measure.
> 
> There are a handful of blues and rock songs about selling your soul to the devil, usually for musical talent, at a crossroads.
> 
> This is chapter one of a five chapter piece. It’s complete, so don’t worry, and I am going to post all of the chapters today. Because, hey, you guys deserve it.


	2. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The piece below was drawn by Maplevogel (http://maplevogel.tumblr.com) and included with her permission.

The next morning, his brother woke up with a wide smile and a long forgotten twinkle in his eyes. He scrambled over the railing of his hospital bed, reaching out for Matthew and knocking their foreheads together, gently. They had been bumping foreheads since before they could walk. It was a special greeting; an acknowledgment just between twins.

Matthew almost burst into tears in relief.

The doctors were baffled, of course, when his bloodwork came back clean. They were huddled around the nurse’s desk in heated discussion, comparing notes and scratching their heads.

“I feel great!” Alfred exclaimed, flexing his nonexistent muscles. He had lost ninety pounds to his therapy. He was skin and bones.

But he was smiling and that was what mattered.

“You always say that,” Matthew laughed, examining his brother’s intravenous lines, content that everything was in place.

“Yeah, but I actually mean it this time.”

Matthew nodded. Alfred always told him he was feeling fine, even when he was vomiting blood or bent over in pain. He never wanted Matthew to worry.

Matthew worried anyway.

“Did you finish your homework?” He asked, rifling through his backpack. Matthew had stopped by the hospital on his way to high school. He had been stopping by at least twice a day since his brother had first been admitted in September. It was now March.

“Most of it…” Alfred said bashfully. He handed over a crinkled piece of paper. He had answered questions one, five, ten, and fifteen.

Matthew studied the piece of a paper and raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve only answered four questions, Al…”

“Yeah… I was hoping the teacher could grade me on a ‘curve’ and 'plot’ the rest accordingly. You know, find the 'median grade average’ based on my answers to those four questions.”

Matthew frowned, incredulous. His brother looked particularly self satisfied with his latest attempt to get out of doing homework.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed, “I’ll fill in the blanks, but only because it sounds like you’ve _actually_ been studying.”

Alfred pumped his fist and grinned as Matthew jammed the assignment into his backpack and stood up. Matthew smiled back, amused and oh so relieved.

Alfred was feeling better. Alfred would live.

And all it had cost was his soul.

They bumped foreheads again and Matthew knew that it had been worth it. Absolutely.

* * *

Matthew slouched into the classroom and handed his homework, and his brother’s now completed homework, in to the teacher. He sat down and threw his textbook onto his desk, already slipping into the background of teenage chaos. No one spoke to him at high school, besides a few select friends, and none of them were in this class with him.

He was as good as invisible… Just the way he liked it.

“Hey.”

Matthew twirled in his seat and almost died of a heart attack. Sitting there, next to him, was the demon from last night. He seemed a little less pale, a little more real, and very, _very_ arrogant. He lounged in his seat as if he owned the whole world and everyone in it; relaxed and unaffected by his surroundings.

For all Matthew knew, maybe he did.

“ _Gilbert_ ,” he croaked.

“The one and only,” Gilbert kicked back in his chair and propped his feet onto the desk, examining his nails.

“What are _you_ doing here? You’re not supposed to be here! You’re going to get me into trouble!” He hissed, terrified. He hated drawing attention to himself.

“I doubt that,” Gilbert cackled. He leaned over and tapped another student on the shoulder before Matthew could stop him. Matthew held his breath. “Hey, man, can I borrow a pencil?”

The student smiled and passed it to him without hesitation.

“Sure, Gilbert. I have another one.”

Gilbert saluted the student and turned back to Matthew with a 'ta-dah’ gesture.

“See, as far as they’re concerned, I’ve been your best friend for nine years and I’m a student here. Also, I’m awesome. Which is true, of course.”

Matthew blinked.

“You… Altered the very fabric of reality…” He sounded it out slowly because it just seemed too fantastic. “Just to go to my… My _high school_?!”

“Nah,” Gilbert shrugged. “I did it to hang out with you.”

“… You said I had ten years.”

“You do, but I also said that you were different, and I meant it. I’m not taking my eyes off of you.”

“… For ten years?” Matthew was scrabbling desperately to make some sense of the nonsensical demon beside him. It was a lost cause.

“Mmhmm,” Gilbert crossed his arms behind his head and settled further into his seat, smirking. “You’re stuck with me for ten… Whole… Years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new beginning, for both of the twins, but for very different reasons. Alfred gets his health but Matthew? He gets Gilbert. Oh dear…
> 
> Obviously, I’ve attributed several supernatural talents to Gilbert as a demon, one of them being the ability to bend reality to suit his whims. Everyone in Matthew’s life will think that they’ve known Gilbert for years; they’ll have false memories of conversations that never happened and a relationship that never existed. A bit scary, sure, but Matthew drove out to the crossroads just to sell his soul on the slight chance that he could save his brother. That’s dedication! I think he’ll just roll with it.


	3. A Beginning of a Different Sort

Alfred had recovered faster than anyone could have expected. Well, anyone besides Matthew and Gilbert. He had been released from the hospital in less than a week and declared cancer free in less than a year, after a myriad of tests.

They were in university now, two years later, and sharing a dormitory. Alfred had called the top bunk. Matthew had let him.

Gilbert spent most of his time in their dormitory and, just as he promised, his brother thought he had known the demon since they were children. Their grandmother, who had been taking care of them since they were four, offered Gilbert cookies and a pat on the head every time they visited. All of his friends, however few of them there may be, raised their hands in greeting and called Gilbert by name.

It was weird, and eerie, but he was used to it by now.

Matthew twirled in circles on his computer chair, staring at his latest assignment. It was an essay on painters in the sixteenth century and their influence on modern art.

“Ugh. You’re boring. So boring. Why’re you so boring?”

Matthew smiled a secret little smile and hid behind his paper. Gilbert was sprawled across his bed like it was his own. He was lying on his stomach with the pillow tucked under his chin and his feet in the air like a twelve year old girl on the telephone.

Alfred was at practice, so it was just the two of them for awhile. He was the star pitcher of the university baseball team and there on a scholarship. It seemed that dreams could come true and all it had cost Matthew was his soul.

“You don’t have to stay here,” he pointed out.

“But I _like_ it here.”

“You just said it’s boring.”

“No, I said _you’re_ boring.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Gilbert stood up and stopped his spinning chair. He lowered the assignment between them with two fingers to reveal Matthew’s smile. He smiled back.

“I don’t mean it, of course, but what do you need an education for? You’re just going to die in eight years.”

Matthew chuckled. He leaned forward and tucked a bit of pale hair behind Gilbert’s ear, and it was almost affectionate after two years. Hell, it _was_ affectionate. Somehow, in pretending to be his best friend, Gilbert had _become_ his friend.

Matthew thought it said a lot about him that his best friend was a demon out for his soul.

“Be _cause_ ,” Matthew said with the exasperation of someone who had explained himself a hundred times before, “the whole reason I have eight years left is that I sold my soul in order to save my brother… _And_ I want to spend those years with Alfred. _And_ Alfred wanted to go to university, so, here we are.”

Gilbert crossed his arms and pouted.

“So why are we taking _Art History_ , then?”

Matthew patted his hand and tried to look apologetic.

“Well, _I’m_ studying Art History because it’s interesting. I have no idea why _you’re_ taking it.”

“I’m taking it because you’re taking it.”

“Your logic never fails to amaze me,” Matthew sighed. He shook his head and his blonde curls bounced with the motion.

“That’s because I am awesome, and it’s hard to keep up.”

* * *

Matthew leaned over his test and scribbled answers in the smallest lettering he could manage, partly because he needed more space to answer the questions than was provided and partly because Gilbert was looking over his shoulder.

“Stop copying me,” he hissed, trying to shield his paper.

“I’m not,” Gilbert whispered, even as he sat up straighter to see over his arm.

“You are too!”

“Mr. Williams, are you _quite_ all right?” The professor drawled, checking the seating chart in front of her for his name. “I won’t ask you again.”

Matthew blushed and lowered his gaze in embarrassment. He could hear another student sniggering at the back of the theatre and his ears burnt.

“You won’t have to, ma'am,” he mumbled.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

Gilbert nudged Matthew and laughed a little too loudly but no one else seemed to notice. No one ever did, not when he did not want them to. It was one of the underrated perks of being a demon.

Matthew glared at him. Gilbert just smirked.

* * *

“C'mon, Matthew, wait up!”

“You got me into trouble, Gilbert! Again!” Matthew raised his hands over his head in frustration. “In front of the whole class! I hate that. You _know_ that.”

“Sure, but I don’t know _why_ ,” he grumbled.

“I hate being the centre of attention; that was always _Alfred’s_ bit. I was the quiet one, the unassuming one. I _hate_ it when everyone is looking at me.”

“But you’re awesome! Everyone _should_ be looking at you! You’re the most fascinating mortal I’ve ever met.”

Matthew stopped and stared at Gilbert, his anger evaporating like so much smoke in the wind.

“… I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me…”

Gilbert stared back, looking confused and a little startled.

“… I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever _said_ to anyone…”

And then they blinked and the spell was broken. Matthew turned right, Gilbert turned left, and they ran in opposite directions as fast as their tattered dignity would allow.

* * *

“So where’s your boyfriend?” Alfred asked as he came through the door and tossed his gym bag up onto the top bunk. Matthew looked up from his essay.

“… My what?”

“Your boyfriend. Gilbert.”

Matthew frowned.

“Gilbert’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, he should be. He’s been your best friend for, what, eleven years?”

“Yes, but…”

“And don’t you dare tell me that you’re straight because I’m your twin and I know better than that. You’re gay. So gay.”

“I…”

“Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Matthew gave up trying to interrupt his brother and flopped onto his bed as a sign of defeat.

“I mean, you should be going at it like bunnies but…” Alfred continued. “Well, it’s a bunk bed; I’d know if you were. You’d rock the whole thing, wouldn’t you? And you never do.”

“Oh god,” he moaned into his pillow. “Shut up.”

“… And he’s not _my_ type but, damn, have you seen that ass? Of course you have! I’ve caught you looking.”

“Al, shut up, I think you’re killing me, I really do. I’m going to die of embarrassment.”

“All I’m saying,” Alfred shrugged as if it was obvious, “is that you should tap that while you have the chance. And so…”

“Please, just…”

“… You should fuck Gilbert!”

Of course, Gilbert chose that exact moment to walk through the door with a bag of colourful sweets. He glanced between the twins with raised eyebrows, bemused. Then he settled on Matthew.

“Should I, uh, come back later? Or is there something you want to tell me?”

Matthew covered his face with both hands and waited for the ground to swallow him whole.

* * *

“You like me!” He crowed and Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. The arrogance in his voice tore through him and cut his dwindling patience to ribbons.

“You’re a soul sucking demon from hell,” Matthew argued but Gilbert just shrugged.

“Yeah, and that turns you on!”

They were walking down the campus corridors again. Well, Gilbert was walking; Matthew was trying to cut and run. Again. But it was a lost cause.

“Gilbert, you should know better than to listen to my brother. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Bullshit. You’re in love with me.”

“I’m going to die in eight years.”

“I know! I was there, remember?” Gilbert threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled Matthew close. Matthew rolled his eyes. “But what’s important here is that _you_ want _me_. In a bad way.”

“Look, I…”

“I want you too.”

Matthew tripped in surprise and gaped at the demon for the second time in so many hours. Gilbert chuckled.

“You… That… You’re going to _kill_ me!”

“Then what do you have to lose, really?” And it sounded so _easy_ , so achingly _obvious_ when Gilbert said it.

Matthew bit his lip and considered the proposition, although he wished he was strong enough to say ‘no’. The truth was that he _did_ like Gilbert, as messed up as that might be, and he _did_ only have eight years left. He did not necessarily want to spend that time alone, true, but he did not want to drag another person into his sordid deal with the devil either. He was too kind for that. He did not want to fall in love with someone just to leave them in a couple of years.

So the obvious answer was to… Date… His murderer…

“Nothing. I have nothing to lose,” he said carefully, “but isn’t that a conflict of interest? For you, I mean?”

“I already told you,” Gilbert pressed a kiss to his cheek, slow and sensual, and Matthew shivered. He felt shy and exposed. Naked. “You’re different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A beginning of a different kind… But these two are idiots in any circumstances. Seriously. They’re idiots. Nations or men, soldiers or performers; these two are idiots… A demon and a man who gave up everything for all the right reasons.


	4. Truly, Madly, Deeply

Matthew sat on the steps and watched the sun rise. The steam from his tea danced and looped in the cold air. Normally, his brother would be jogging past their house at this hour but this was a special occasion.

He was most likely sleeping in with his fiancée but they would have to wake up eventually. It was their wedding day, after all.

His brother was getting married.

Matthew sipped his tea and watched the sky lighten in shades and hues. It was peaceful.

Gilbert opened the front door and slipped out; barefoot on the crumbling steps. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. The motion raised the plain shirt he was wearing and exposed his pale, taut stomach.

Matthew resisted the urge to run his hands over his demonic boyfriend and smiled into his tea.

“Where’s the Boy Wonder?” Gilbert asked around another yawn. Matthew chuckled.

“Either sleeping in or having rambunctious morning sex.”

“Oh, that’s gross,” Gilbert blanched. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Well, it _is_ their wedding, you know.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, but I never, _ever_ want to imagine your brother, ugh, naked.” Gilbert stuck out his tongue in disgust.

Matthew looked up at him, bemused.

“You do realize that we’re twins, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re nothing alike. You’re a brilliant, amazing, _awesome_ man. Not to mention ‘wonderfully sexy’. And your brother is an idiot with baseball on the brain.”

Matthew stood up and pecked Gilbert on the cheek.

“See, and that’s why I love you. It’s your way with words.”

Gilbert grumbled under his breath, disarmed, and Matthew revelled in having the advantage. He _loved_ to embarrass Gilbert, if only because Gilbert usually had the upper hand in that department.

* * *

Matthew stood next to his brother and watched him straighten his bow tie in the mirror and nervously flatten his lapels. His blonde hair was slicked back and he was wearing a crisp, black suit. He had never looked so handsome and Matthew’s heart throbbed with the knowledge that his brother should have died six years ago.

Matthew had never regretted his decision to trade his life for his brother’s. Not even for a moment.

Alfred had joined a professional baseball team right out of university. He was not pitching in the big leagues, not yet at least, but Matthew knew that it was just a matter of time. He was so proud of him.

And now he was getting married.

He clapped Alfred on the shoulder and smiled at him. Alfred smiled back.

There was no need for words between them. Matthew could see the world reflected in his brother’s eyes; Alfred could feel his emotions as if they were his own. Matthew knew everything about his brother and Alfred knew _almost_ everything about him. Everything except for that one terrible secret:

He did not know who, or what, Gilbert really was.

And he did not know what Matthew had done, what he had gladly sold, for his twin. If Matthew had his way, he would never find out about his deal with the devil.

Alfred deserved that much.

* * *

Matthew listened his brother recite his vows with the earnest clumsiness of someone hopelessly in love. His fiancée did not seem to mind in the slightest.

He scanned the pews looking for Gilbert from his place as the Best Man. His eyes found him as if drawn to the demon, which was not that far from the truth. Gilbert was sitting in the second to last pew between a blue haired old woman and a pierced youth.

Matthew had been surprised to hear that Gilbert could even enter a church, nevermind sit through a service. He had expected it to be painful for demons, at the very least, and deadly at the most.

Gilbert had just shrugged and told him that it was all hearsay. Rumours spread to make the masses feel better. Lies and slander.

Matthew smiled and twiddled his fingers in his general direction. Gilbert grinned and waved back.

He looked good, Matthew thought. Really good. His blue collared shirt was untucked with the sleeves rolled up. Gilbert should have been wearing tie for the occasion but the top two buttons were undone instead. He was a rebel; a demon in a church.

His hair was windswept and tousled, and it looked too artfully done to be anything but intentional. Either way, he looked hot.

And Matthew would take advantage of that loose shirt a little later, trailing his hands over his pale chest. He would wind his fingers through that hair and pull Gilbert down on top of him. He would tease him with kisses and whispered promises whilst Gilbert begged him for more.

He must have been blushing because Gilbert leaned back and smirked as if he was reading his mind. Hell, for all he knew, Gilbert actually _could_ read his mind.

And _that_ was a terrifying thought.

He turned back to the service.

* * *

Matthew sat in the garden and gazed at the stars. It was a new moon tonight and the coincidence, if he even believed in coincidences anymore, made him smile. He had made the deal to save his brother on a moonless night; it only seemed fitting for him to get married under the same circumstances.

The wedding guests were laughing and dancing in the reception hall behind him. It had been a stunning wedding and the dinner afterwards had been to die for. After all, it had been his gift to Alfred, despite his protests. It was not as if he had anything _else_ to spend his money on.

He was planning to disappear in four years, give or take, and his brother would be a very wealthy man when he did… He was leaving everything to his twin.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Gilbert asked, coming up behind him resting a hand on his shoulder. Matthew reached up and covered the hand with his own. “The party’s in there.”

“Just getting a breath of fresh air.”

“It was a beautiful day,” Gilbert squeezed his shoulder. “The happy couple look like they’re itching to get to the honeymoon, though.”

Matthew laughed and it echoed, bouncing off the stone walls that surrounded the garden.

“I’m sure they are.”

They were quiet for a long time, just soaking in the ambiance and warm breeze. Ivy covered almost everything in the garden and small, purple flowers covered everything else.

Matthew leaned back against Gilbert and tangled their fingers together.

“Matthew…”

“Yes?”

“… Have you ever thought about getting married?”

Matthew frowned.

“No, not really. I mean, what’s the point? I know I’m running on borrowed time; it seems silly to think about it now.”

“But you’ve thought about it?”

“Well,” Matthew hummed, “I guess, when I was younger. Before I sold my soul.”

Gilbert was quiet for a little while longer before saying something truly, entirely, _utterly_ shocking.

“I want to marry you.”

Matthew froze.

“… Excuse me?” He was sure that he had misunderstood.

“I want to marry you,” Gilbert said again, enunciating each syllable. Matthew blinked.

“… Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to kill me in four years.”

“Four years, two months, six days and… Eighteen hours. Not that I’m counting or anything.”

“Yes, that.”

“Look,” Gilbert sighed, “a deal’s a deal and there’s no turning back; your soul is forfeit and that’s that. But I love you, as fucked up as that is, and I want to marry you, even if it is just for four years, two months, six days and eighteen perfect hours. You’re _different_.”

Matthew looked at the hand on his shoulder, pale and steady and constant. How could he refuse?

He was hopelessly in love with his murderer. Truly, madly, deeply.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. I’ve really enjoyed writing this piece. There is something convoluted and complicated about the whole scenario but so simple in the same breath. Life is like that, I suppose. Even if you only have four years, two months, six days and eighteen hours left.
> 
> You’ll notice that I do not describe Alfred’s fiancée, not even their sex, and that’s on purpose. Everyone has a different idea on who he should end up with, so feel free to imagine whoever you like.


	5. A Promise is a Promise

“It’s time to wake up, sweetheart,” Gilbert whispered in his ear, trailing his fingers over his stomach and kissing the back of his neck. It tickled. Matthew burrowed deeper into the cradle of his arms and grunted.

“No.”

“Time’s up.”

“… Five more minutes…” He whined.

“No,” Gilbert chuckled, “I mean, _time’s up_.”

Matthew opened his eyes and squinted at the alarm clock.

“Is it Tuesday already?”

“Yes, and it’s a great day to die.”

* * *

Gilbert handed Matthew a heaping pile of pancakes and kissed him on the cheek. His wedding ring caught the sunlight as breakfast changed hands and it made Matthew smile.

They had been married for three and a half blissful years and every minute spent in his arms was better than the last.

“So, what’re we going to do today?” Gilbert asked, sitting down at the table with a tin of maple syrup and cutting into his own pancakes. “It’s your day. You have until midnight.”

“Well,” Matthew started, “since Grandma passed away, it’s just Alfred and I, and so I’ll want to spend most of the day with him.”

“Of course.”

“And I’ll want to ring my friends. Ivan, and Lovino, and Lars.”

“I hate Ivan,” Gilbert grumbled, “but alright.”

Matthew laughed and leaned forward to twine their fingers together. He admired his wedding ring.

“I know.”

“What else do you want to do?”

“Nothing,” Matthew squeezed his hand and Gilbert squeezed back. “I want to spend the rest of the day with you.”

“… You’ll see me anyway. At midnight.”

“Ah,” Matthew smiled, small and soft, “but you’re my husband until then and I want to spend the day with the man I married.”

Gilbert ducked his head.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Matthew hung up the telephone with a snort.

“It went well then, I take it?” Gilbert asked as he wandered into the den.

Matthew turned around with a twinkle in his eye.

“Mmhmm, although they were all a little creeped out when I told them I loved them.”

“Good,” Gilbert nodded, holding up a jacket so that Matthew could slip his arms into the sleeves. “It’s important to keep them on edge. Especially Ivan. I don’t like Ivan…”

“I know,” he said again, grinning.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.”

* * *

They spent the afternoon with his brother, drinking beer, looking through old photographs, and laughing. Mostly laughing.

It was perfect. Alfred seemed to positively _glow_ and it was hard for Matthew to recall the wraith he had sold his soul for that moonless night. He was so proud of him. Alfred had come so far in just ten years; he was in the big leagues now and surrounded by friends. He was healthy and in love and expecting a baby in a couple of weeks. He fundraised for cancer research and visited the hospital in his spare time.

Matthew had never regretted his decision to summon Gilbert, not even for a minute. How could he? He loved his brother. The world needed his brother; Alfred was a bright spot in an otherwise bleak existence.

And so Matthew had given him the greatest gift he could think of: Life, with a capital ‘L’.

And it was _so_ worth it.

* * *

Matthew and Gilbert were lying naked on a blanket under the stars, curled up together against the wind and sharing secrets. Gilbert had said that they did not have to be there, at the crossroads; that he could take his soul anywhere, but Matthew wanted to be there. It just felt right.

It had all started at the crossroads… It should end there too, and so they made love on that exact spot, not once but twice.

“I’m glad I met you,” Matthew sighed against his skin afterwards.

“Well, you were kind of hard to ignore. It’s rare for someone to wish that hard, that _desperately_ for something so selfless. You summoned me and I had to come. I had no choice. And once I met you, well, then I really had no choice.”

“You changed my life,” Matthew kissed and bit and licked a trail across his chest. Gilbert moaned and leaned into his ministrations.

“I’m about to _take_ your life. Do you ever regret it?”

“Never.”

Gilbert sat up and Matthew followed him. He tucked a wayward curl behind his ear and lingered. Matthew kissed his fingertips one by one.

His husband was brilliant in the moonlight, pale and otherworldly. Gilbert was beautiful. His eyes burnt with the weight of his task, and with grief, but a deal was a deal. They had sealed it with a kiss ten years ago.

“I love you,” Gilbert pulled his hand back and covered his lips with his own. He kissed Matthew, long and deep, and Matthew kissed back. They pressed their bodies together as if it could somehow to keep them together a little longer.

Matthew broke the kiss, needing to breathe. Gilbert was a demon and he did not _need_ to breathe, precisely, but it was a habit.

“I love you too,” he sighed against his cheek. It was sappy and hopelessly romantic but there was nothing for it. They were living the greatest fairytale of the twenty first century and, sadly, the last chapter had already been written.

Gilbert held Matthew in his arms and he felt safe. Loved. He was not afraid of death.

Gilbert could have his soul; he already had his heart.

“Time’s up,” Gilbert whispered. Matthew wanted to tell him that a decade had been enough time; that he had saved his brother’s life and watched him achieve his dreams. That he had fallen in love with a beautiful man, no, demon. That he had truly _lived,_ as only a deadman can.

Ten years had been more than enough time.

But, before he could open his mouth, Gilbert leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

And Matthew died.

* * *

Gilbert stared at the silver orb in his hands. It was warm and gentle, just like the mortal he had married. It was a good soul; a pure soul.

It would be delicious, if only he could bring himself to eat it.

Matthew… Oh, Matthew. He had been too kind for his own good. Too caring. He had sacrificed everything for his brother without batting an eye.

And he had never looked back.

Gilbert ran his fingertip over the orb, the same fingers Matthew had been kissing five minutes ago, and the orb shivered and pulsed in pleasure. Gilbert smiled and looked down.

Matthew was lying sprawled across the blanket. His lavender eyes were wide and unseeing in death; his mouth slightly open. He was still lovely, of course, but that spark of life was gone.

It was in the palm of his hand now.

Gilbert stretched and glanced down one long dirt road, and then the other. Where to next?

He ran his finger of the orb again and chuckled when it pulsed.

“You like that, don’t you?” Gilbert asked. His voice was a little raw.

The orb winked at him and his low chuckle turned into strange, hiccupping laughter. If he sounded a bit deranged, well, that was to be expected; his husband had just died.

He tossed the orb into the air and caught it again with a flick of his wrist.

He did not think he would devour this particular soul. No, not this one; never this one. He did not think he _could._ Something in him had been fascinated by Matthew so many years ago, fascinated by that trembling blonde child willing to give everything for his brother, and that something had changed and grown into love.

He picked a direction and started walking, leaving the empty shell of his husband behind for someone else to find.

“You’re coming with me,” Gilbert told the orb, pointing at it with his index finger. It winked and trembled and Gilbert thought that Matthew must have been laughing. “And I am never, ever letting you go. After all… You’re _different_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this during a terrible bout of insomnia this morning. It was nice to write a new piece, and finish it. I’m not sure if this is a tragedy or a happy ending. Maybe it’s a little bit of both? I think Matthew was content, in any case. Thoughts? Feelings?
> 
> After all, a promise is a promise.
> 
> The last segment is the only part written from Gilbert’s point-of-view; the rest of the story is told by Matthew. Also, you’ll notice that Gilbert tells Matthew he’s 'different’ in every chapter.


End file.
